


A Sasquatch in Cotton Ridge

by mozbee



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Casual Sex, First Time, M/M, Modern AU, Newt goes to a country bar, but still smutty, denim clad Percival, save a horse ride a cowboy, supposed to just be smut but then something happened, there's more than meets the eye
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-06
Updated: 2017-02-06
Packaged: 2018-09-22 08:51:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9598133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mozbee/pseuds/mozbee
Summary: Newt Scamander is fed up with the monotony of his life, so on a whim he packs a bag and takes off for a weekend. He finds himself in the small southern town of Cotton Ridge, and decides to bunk down for the night in this charming hamlet. He goes for a drink in the rough and tumble local bar, and is soon being wooed by a handsome stranger with the devil's eyes and a six pack. Everything kind of snowballs from there.





	

The lighting in the bar was dim and the floor was sticky with spilled booze. Newt Scamander felt a thrill run through him at the stereotypes as he made his way to the bar, a long, scuffed wood tableau peppered with ashtrays and bowls of peanuts that he knew he shouldn’t touch. A burly man with an honest to god eyepatch nodded at him as he slid onto a wooden stool. Newt nodded back, heart pounding, waiting for someone to realize he didn’t quite fit in with this rough and tumble crowd.

He just felt like he was suffocating in his day to day life. Everything was such a routine, nothing surprised him anymore, and he felt stuck in a rut. To the surprise of everyone, most of all himself, he took off for a spontaneous weekend away. He hadn’t even consulted a map, he’d just packed some clothes and gone south. After three hours of driving, he was passing through rural towns interspersed with rundown factories and trailer parks.  He had stopped at a mom and pop shop for a drink and been so utterly charmed by Nora, the mom of the shop, that he had decided to stay the night in the town. He asked Nora where in town he could find lodging, and she told him the hotel downtown, downtown being three doors to the right, so he’d walked over and gotten a room at the Southern Inn. Trying not to seem too much of a tourist, he’d asked Phil, the man at the reception desk, what he would recommend to do in town.

So after dropping his bag in the pleasantly quaint room, Newt found himself wandering into the bar inside of the hotel, the Southern Bar.

A buxom woman came up to him from the business side of the bar, smiling broadly at him while she wiped down the pockmarked wood.

“What’ll it be, honey?”

With the country music emanating from the jukebox, and the callus faced patrons roaring good naturedly around him, Newt cleared his throat and said clearly, “whisky. Neat.” And mentally congratulated himself on not sounding like he was completely out of his element.

“British, huh?” she asked cheerfully, grabbing a squat bottle from the wall behind her. “You visitin’ someone, hun?”

Newt shook his head, and dug cash out of his pocket when she placed a thick cut tumbler in front of him, swirling with a dark amber liquid. “I’ve lived here almost three years now,” he said, rather proudly, waving away the change she held out to him. She flashed him another brilliant smile, teeth slightly yellowed, emphasized by the deep red lipstick she wore, and took his hand in hers and gave it an affectionate squeeze.

“Good for you, honey! America is the land of opportunities you know.” She gave him a coy smile. “I bet you get a lotta ladies with that charmin’ accent of yours, huh?”

Newt choked on his drink, and desperately tried to force back the racking cough that threatened to spill forth and embarrass him. The bartender passed him a towel from under the bar, looking concerned as she asked if he was all right.

“Fine, thank you,” he rasped, face hot from the effort of not coughing his lungs out. After a deep breath or two his airways cleared up, and he managed a smile. “It’s not ladies I try to attract,” he confided in a low voice. He was open about his sexuality, had been ever since wasting his pre teens miserable trying to be something he wasn’t.

“I bet you’ve broken a lot of ladies’ hearts with that,” she giggled, “and made a lot of men happy. I could just eat you up with a spoon!” A couple of men made their way up to the bar, cowboy hats tilted at perilous angles as they drunkenly jostled each other and laughed. The bartender winked at Newt. “Duty calls, hun. If you need anything just give me a holler. I’m Queenie.”

Newt thanked her, blushing with the attention and flushed with pleasure at his prolonged interaction with someone he didn’t even know, and looked around the crowded bar while he sipped his drink. Whisky, he thought as he swallowed roughly, was definitely a ‘man’s drink’, but what kind of man he didn’t know.

There were high tables with no chairs dotting one half of the room, meant for drinks and leaning and wallets and purses to get spilled on, and booths lining the far wall. The rest of the floor was taken up by dancing couples, and a group of young women clutching beer bottles and revelling in the attention paid to them as a result of their boisterous antics. A few large screen televisions hung around the room, all playing various sports matches and being hollered at by the men circling the high tables, who would wave their beer or liquor around in cheer or consternation every time something happened on the screen.

The bar felt so alive, and it was populated by people of every race and age imaginable. There were older men with hard faces who sat at the booths nursing mugs of beer, silent in their solidarity; bikers with arms as thick around as Newt’s whole body and tattooed colourfully, with beards hanging down to their chests and bandannas that looked like they were used to staunch the flow of blood from a gunshot wound once or twice; young men decked out in plaid shirts and dusty boots with pretty little bunnies hanging off them, delicate girls who looked like a picture but all of a sudden would be in each other’s faces over a perceived slight, and just as quickly making up and heading to the washroom together. He even saw an old couple, in their seventies if Newt had to guess, slow dancing in front of the jukebox while a smoke rough voice serenaded them with twangy guitars accompanying.

Newt lost himself in the crowd, eyes clouding over as he envisioned living in a town such as this, knowing these people as neighbours, having nights at this bar, living in such an uncomplicated way. His heart filled with yearning, and he turned back to the bar to catch Queenie’s eye and signal for another drink. He was filled with the strange urge to make conversation with someone, something he usually avoided, especially with a perfect stranger, but the heady scent of smoke and liquor playing with the heartfelt country music, and the way the whisky spread through him, stirred his suffocated social feelings and he was going to act now, dammit.

A warm arm pressed against his as he reached for his new drink, and a hand stilled his reach for his money. He followed the rough hand up a denim clad arm to a wide shoulder and then his heart stuttered at the piercing gaze filling his senses.

“Allow me,” the man with the dark eyes said, flashing him a predatory smile, baring sharp, straight white teeth. He looked at Queenie, who seemed to know what he meant as she immediately poured him his own whisky. Newt caught her winking at him slyly as the stranger handed over a crumpled twenty and left her the change.

Newt’s voice finally came back to him. “Thank you, Mr…?”

“Percy,” he responded, holding out a hand to shake. Newt took it, and was quietly impressed at the strength in his grip.

“Percy,” Newt nodded. He took a long drink, then introduced himself. “I’m Newt.” Percy raised his eyebrows.

“British _and_ unique. I like it.”

Good lord, the man positively oozed seduction. His voice was low, giving Newt cause to lean close to hear him. He kept his gaze fixated on Newt, as though he was the only person in the bar. Newt forgot himself for a moment at he took in the strong jaw, high cheekbones like a model, and an interesting scar above his lip that looked like a star.

“Are you in town long?” Percy asked, settling himself on the stool next to Newt. It was at that moment Newt realized Percy was wearing a denim jacket with no shirt underneath. He let his eyes wander down a broad chest to rest on a tantalizing abdomen, and just as they sought to travel further south he snapped himself out of it.

“I live here!” he blurted, belatedly processing the question. He blushed at the look Percy gave him, that told him he had seen the blatant once over, and he hurried on in an attempt to distract. “Er, not here in Cotton Ridge, that is. America. I have a visa,” he added, then wondered why he said that.

“I’m glad to hear that,” Percy said, his face as serious as his tone was mocking. “I would hate to subject you to a strip search.” Newt furiously gulped his whisky down, unable to proceed further unless he allowed his tongue to loosen up a bit. He set the empty glass down on the bar unintentionally hard. His head spun for a moment before he adjusted to his newfound state.

“You would need hard won permission for that, I’m afraid,” he said, speaking low, turning Percy’s own trick around on him as this time he was the one to lean forward to hear. Newt inhaled deeply, and was puzzled by the scent of pine trees overpowering his smell. An odd choice for cologne, but it set him at ease, thinking of the wild world that seemed to beckon to him from the doorstep that was Percy.

“Would a good first step towards winning that permission be to dance with you?” asked Percy, lustful intent glittering in his eyes. He stood, his own whisky untouched, and held a hand out expectantly. Newt was hesitant at first; he knew small towns, especially out in the south, could be archaic when it came to homosexuals, and a niggling voice told him a country bar of all places could be a bad place to be so obvious about his preferences. A gentle nudge from behind had him turning to face Queenie, who was leaning forward on the bar conspiratorially.

“Go on, honey,” she urged. “He’s quite the looker, and besides, me and my girlfriend own the place.” She smiled at him, a secret smile. “No one’s gonna bother you.”

Newt’s heart leapt, and he stood, grinning at Queenie, relief washing over him. He took Percy’s hand, and giggled to himself at the feeling washing over him, as though someone had cracked a warm egg over his head and it was flooding down the length of his body. He was well and truly buzzed. They moved to the dance floor, squeezing between other couples and the group of girls shaking their hair all over the place. Newt caught one or two of them staring enviously at Percy’s naked chest as he passed them, and puffed up with pride when they saw that he had chosen _Newt_.

Percy stopped in the middle of the crowd, and smiled slow, heavy. They stood at almost eye level with each other, and Newt found himself grateful for that second drink as he met Percy’s eyes with no difficulty. Strong hands on his hips pulled him forward, and while a woman sang about the perils of loving a man with a six shooter, the two of them moved, sliding against each other, and soon there was a hand fitting into Newt’s back pocket and squeezing. Newt’s breath caught in his throat; overwhelmed by the look in Percy’s eyes, burning and possessive, Newt raised a hand to push past the denim loosely pulled over a bare chest and felt the hard muscles, felt the way hot skin jumped under his touch, and his cock sat up and took notice. He knew when Percy felt it, because he suddenly bared his teeth and dipped his head to kiss Newt hard enough to take his breath away.

Newt took advantage of the dim light and their close proximity to subtly slide his hand down to rub at a growing bulge in the other man’s pants, and he held back a cry when Percy suddenly growled into his mouth and bit his lip, before soothing it with a velvet tongue. Newt felt as if he couldn’t breathe, and he was all too aware of the other patrons in the bar, and he pulled out of the kiss, holding Percy back with one hand on his chin, and he wordlessly thanked the makers of whisky who lent him the courage to say, “I have a room in the hotel if you want to get to know each other better.”

Percy’s eyes widened momentarily, and he looked at Newt intently, before nodding slowly. “You read my mind,” he said directly in Newt’s ear, hot breath ghosting across his skin and causing goosebumps to sprout up. Newt shuddered in pleasure, eyes fluttering, and he nodded at the bar and said, “my jacket.” He led the way to the bar, dimly hoping in his haze that he had in fact left his jacket there but not feeling too bothered if it wasn’t, and Percy hung back as Newt went over to where Queenie stood under one of the televisions, holding out his jacket and grinning at him.

“Be safe, honey, and have fun,” she winked at him. Newt beamed broadly at her, then his gaze fell to the glass of whisky on the back counter. She picked it up and held it out to him, and he nodded and threw it back in one go. Queenie giggled and Newt shrugged; Percy hadn’t touched it after he’d paid for it, no sense in it going to waste. Any further comment from Queenie was cut off when yells of dismay went up in the bar, and Newt vaguely noticed the televisions switching from sports footage to some bulletin highlighted with red bars. He waved at Queenie as he turned back to find Percy, hearing her voice rise above everyone grumbling to shout, “come on, y’all, you know I can’t do anything about these broadcasts, and besides, it’ll be over in a minute!”

Newt had a moment of panic when he couldn’t find Percy in the crowd, afraid he had grown impatient and left, but he soon caught sight of him in the doorway that split the bar from the hotel lobby. He hurried over, and took Percy’s hand. “Everything all right?” he asked, too loudly, he scolded himself. That third whisky had gone straight to his head. The tense line between Percy’s eyes disappeared, and he squeezed Newt’s hand in response.

They walked past the man dozing at reception. “This town is very much a mind-your-own-business town,” he said conversationally as he led the way to his room. “And you know, I think this hotel may be a house of ill repute!” he hissed, glancing around as though someone would overhear. “When I asked for a room, he wanted to know if it was by the hour or not!” He crinkled his nose in thought as they reached his room. “I wonder if I got a deal because I chose the bulk option.”

He snorted with laughter as Percy suddenly ran his hands down his shoulders to his ass. “Piss off!” he ordered. “I can’t get the bloody key to work.”

“That’s because it’s your credit card you’re trying,” Percy told him, muffling a laugh in Newt’s neck. Newt huffed and dug into his jacket pocket, mumbling to himself as he sought out the room key. He pulled it out with a flourish, and as soon as the door was shut behind them (with the chain pulled as well, _be safe_ echoing through his head), he was spun and pushed against it, a hot mouth on his, hands running through his hair, a knee pushed between his thighs to spread his legs.

Newt moaned as Percy reached down to cup his cock through his pants, eyes falling closed at the steady pressure lending heat to the pit of his stomach. He fumbled with the buttons on Percy’s dark pants, and was surprised when they fell down before he could undo the buttons or pull down the zipper.

“Lose some weight recently?” he asked with a short laugh. Percy ducked his head to suck at the racing pulse in his neck, and Newt was overcome by chills at the feeling. Hands were eagerly tugging his pants open, and they both stepped out of their pants pooled at their ankles, kicked off their shoes. A rush of dizziness overtook him then, and he reluctantly pushed Percy away. “I just…need some air,” he said apologetically. Percy nodded.

“This will probably help,” he murmured, pulling at the bottom of Newt’s shirt. Newt obligingly lifted his arms, and gasped when his shirt was pulled halfway over his head then halted, and there was a wet tongue gently circling his nipple. He fought the rest of the way out of his shirt, flushed, hair mussed, and saw Percy taking him in with a dark look in his eyes.

“That was no help whatsoever,” Newt managed to say before once more they were on each other, kissing and nipping and sucking, hands roaming at will. He was momentarily brought back down to earth when the door knob dug into his back and he winced and pulled away to gasp out, “the bed, perhaps?”

Percy growled and suddenly hoisted Newt up, planting his hands on his ass and holding tight as he walked them over to the low bed, depositing Newt gently before moving his head down to once again tease his nipples. Newt moaned with abandon, for once not self conscious about his reaction to pleasure. The whisky had unhinged his jaw and let go the rigid self control he lived his life by.

He ran his fingers through thick dark hair, and gasped in surprise and jerked his hand away when something sharp jabbed his finger. He pulled out a pine needle of all things, and couldn’t help the burst of laughter. Percy had lifted his head up and was staring at the needle, expression unreadable. “Nature lover?” Newt asked, grinning. Percy said nothing, eyes lit up with some undefinable look. Newt pulled himself out from under him, and saw how Percy seemed to wilt under his considering stare.

“I’m going to need you to remove your shirt now, please,” he said seriously, dropping the pine needle to the bedside table without a second thought. He crossed his legs and reached out to halt Percy pulling his denim jacket off. “ _Slowly,_ please.” He was graced with that alluring smile, and overcome with lust when Percy slowly dipped the jacket behind him, letting it inch down his naked back bit by bit. He leaned back, pushing his chest out, pectorals gleaming promises. Newt waited til Percy’s arms were down around his waist to move forward, and he kissed him sloppily as he hauled him bodily around to press him onto the bed, straddling narrow hips and trailing his fingers down the abdomen that had taunted him all night.

Percy gasped and writhed, laying on top of his own arms still tangled in the sleeves of the denim jacket. “Do you just,” Newt leaned down to suck on his neck,” walk about all the time with nothing but a jacket hanging open,” he brought his hands up to caress and rub a pair of pert nipples, “inviting all sorts of filthy fantasies?” He could feel Percy’s cock shifting under him, and he dragged his ass back and forth over it, his own cock straining through his boxers. He took in the sight of Percy breathing heavy under him, watching the tendon in his neck jump at every featherlight touch Newt’s fingers whispered over his skin, but he paused when he felt a patch of roughened skin bump up under his fingers. Curious, he leaned over and saw an ugly scar staring at him, a ragged edge starting just behind Percy's hip and fading away to his back. Newt traced his fingers over it, then belatedly realized what he was doing and snapped his hand away.

“I’m sorry!” he said quickly, tucking his hands under his knees, not sure if he could trust them. Why had he done that? What if Percy was self conscious about it or it had some terrible origin story and Newt had just brought that to the forefront of his mind?

Percy pulled himself up, free from his jacket, and snaked his arms around Newt’s waist. He leaned his head against Newt’s chest. “It’s fine,” he said breathlessly. “Now put your hands back on me.”

Newt took courage from Percy’s reassuring tone and the whisky fire coursing through him, and he ducked his head next to Percy’s ear and whispered, “I appear to be sitting on the part of your body I want to touch.” He groaned at the hands that were kneading his ass, and sighed heavily at the tongue flicking at his nipples playfully. Percy brought one hand down to hover over Newt’s cock, and he could feel himself bunch up in anticipation at the heat that radiated down, and he shuddered and twitched when Percy closed his fingers around it through the front of his boxers, and he closed his eyes against the feeling, skin tingling, and he abruptly shoved Percy down.

“I feel as though there are entirely far too many layers separating us,” Newt told him. He was flushed with the heady pleasure that dominated his senses, and he was eager to feel their bodies rubbing against each other with nothing in the way. Percy grinned and rolled to the side, catching Newt as he flopped to the edge of the bed. He brought his hands down and began to pull at the waistband of Newt’s boxers, before apparently changing his mind and sitting up, rolling Newt onto his stomach to play with his ass before pulling the boxers the rest of the way off.

Newt tensed when he heard a snort from behind him, and he opened his eyes and turned to look over his shoulder. “What?” he demanded, body aching for more. Percy wordlessly held up the boxers he had just slid off Newt, desperately trying to hold back his laughter, mirth dancing in his eyes. Newt dropped his head to the bed in mortification.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t exactly think I would be getting lucky in a small town in the middle of nowhere and therefore did not dress accordingly!”

Percy barked a short, sharp laugh, then tossed the boxers away. “It’s not every day I meet someone with a sasquatch on the back of their underwear.”

“They were a gift. A gag,” Newt said through gritted teeth. He pushed himself up onto his elbows and squeaked at the sharp slap that suddenly stung his cheeks. Percy was watching him, eyebrow raised, an amused grin circling his full lips, and Newt said, “you’re gorgeous. Pretty, even.”

Percy’s face closed off suddenly, and he sat back, leaning away from Newt. He spoke to the bed. “Don’t call me pretty.”

Newt was confused, wondering what was wrong with it, but figured Percy had been teased for having an almost feminine look to him. His long eyelashes and high cheekbones would look more at home on a six foot bombshell strutting a runway.

“I apologize. I should have said hot,” he said, crawling slowly to where Percy was perched. He bent down to suck at the red mark he’d already started on his neck. “Devilishly handsome,” he added, and leaned forward to gently run his tongue along the shell of his ear. “Utterly fuckable,” he finished, and reached down to Percy’s boxers, tracing the outline of his cock. “And I believe these are supposed to be off.”

Percy was starting to respond again, and he ran his hands down Newt’s chest and allowed himself to be pushed gently onto his back. Newt rubbed his hand over a hard shaft visibly straining against a cotton front, giving Percy a coy look as he gasped in a breath. Newt slowly pulled the waistband down over pointy hips, mindful of the scar, swallowing when he saw a long cock flushed red reaching up to meet him. He was aware of Percy’s eyes on him as he reached to take it in hand, before he stopped himself.

He arranged himself on his stomach, face inches from Percy’s erection, and breathed lightly over it, taking delight in the way Percy’s abdomen twitched, and said, “I hope you don’t mind if I don’t have much to say for the next few minutes,” and he lowered his head and took Percy into his mouth. He drank in the sharp exhale that came from above him, and he moved his head slow and steady, experimenting with how much he could take in without gagging himself. He moved his tongue in dips and whirls, feeling the warm, velvety length moving against the back of his teeth, and with one hand he reached to caress and squeeze the balls patiently waiting for his ministrations, and the other went to lazily stroke the flawless abdomen.

He slurped back hot clear pre-come and the saliva that was building up in his mouth. It was much like sucking on a large, vulgar lollipop, something that the first time he was sucking cock occurred to him and made him burst out laughing. Now, with his fair share of practice, he was able to think that without laughing about it, and realize that the one receiving his mouth was turned on at the slurping and sucking noises. Percy was no different; he was a trembling mess north of Newt’s head, reaching down but faltering as though he didn’t know what to do with his hands.

Newt smiled up at him around a mouthful of cock when Percy fixed glazed eyes on him, and let his cock pop out of his mouth, but kept running his fingers lightly up and down, squeezing the base and blowing hot breath against the slit, then propped his chin in one hand casually and said, “I like having my hair pulled.”

Percy dropped his head with a groan as though overcome, then sat up on his elbows, fixing Newt with an incredulous look. “Where did you come from?” he panted, licking his lips at Newt still playing with his cock.

“Brighton, in the southeast of England,” Newt chirped, then ducked his head down and positively attacked Percy’s cock, circling his tongue around the outside, laying it flat and wide to cover more area, keeping up his touch on his balls, and he closed his eyes when fingers threaded through his hair and clenched. Newt felt filthy and he loved it. He took the pulsating cock back into his mouth and slid it in as far as he could, then swallowed and held his throat tight on the tail end of the swallow. His hair was roughly gathered, and he allowed his head to be tugged to the side, but he did not cease in bobbing up and down, nor cradling tight balls, breathing heavily through his nose.

“Newt.” His name uttered in a strained voice gave him pause, and he opened his eyes and looked up to see dark eyes staring at him intently, a mouth parted slightly above a heaving chest, and a hand beckoning him. He sat back on his knees, pushing his hair out of his face, his own breathing heavy, and he crawled over to Percy, deliberately licking his lips slow, watching how his tongue was tracked.

He was surprised at how he had focused all of his attention on pleasing Percy; usually he was distracted by his own arousal hanging hot and heavy, thoughts of his own pleasure always present at the back of his mind, but with Percy he was completely zoned in on what he was doing to the other man.

They shared a steamy kiss, tongues dipping and sliding against each other, and Percy’s long arms made it easy for him to stretch out and wrap callused fingers around Newt’s cock. They both moaned into the kiss, Newt’s heart racing as a finger swirled the tip of his cock, spreading out the pre-come and rubbing it up and down his length. Percy suddenly leaned up and bit Newt’s neck as he arched his back at the feel of his cock being stimulated.

Both of them were breathing raggedly, eyes heavy with lust, and Percy spoke in a gravelly voice. “How would you like to proceed from here?”

“Well,” Newt replied, breath hitching at the firm hand massaging his balls, “I absolutely adore the feeling of being filled, if you catch my meaning.”

“I think I do,” Percy muttered, sitting hallway up to suck on a nipple, keeping his grip firm as he alternated between squeezing and rubbing Newt’s cock. Newt grudgingly pulled himself away, lifting Percy’s hands off of himself reluctantly.

“Back in a tick,” he promised, and he clambered to the end of the bed and crossed the room, briefly grateful that the curtains were drawn, to his overnight bag sitting on the armchair in the corner. He rummaged around for a moment before finding a small bottle of lubrication and a strip of six condoms in gold foil. “I was a Boy Scout you know, so I always come prepar—oh!” Newt gasped in surprise when he was embraced from behind, cheery words cut off, as Percy’s burning hot body was pressed flush against his, a hard cock getting acquainted with the cleft of his ass, two hands reaching around the front to doubly assault his impatient cock.

His legs grew weak as fingertips found their way to his nipple once again, lightly teasing it while another hand kept on squeezing and pulling his erection, and he leaned against Percy, feeling the flex of the muscled abdomen through his back. They somehow found their way back to the bed, falling on it in a tangle of limbs and deep moans. Percy kept Newt on his back, and kept licking and kissing his way around his body as Newt’s shaking hands tried to rally together long enough to tear open a condom. They snorted and chuckled together as Percy persisted in getting in the way of Newt’s efforts to unroll the condom onto his cock, and Newt was finally triumphant and stuck his tongue out at Percy who immediately grabbed it between his teeth.

They ran into the same obstacle when Newt tried to squeeze a dollop of lube into his palm and reach down to coat Percy’s sheathed cock in a few quick strokes, then he laid back, panting, as Percy took the lube from him and spread a generous amount over his right hand, rubbing his fingers together to get them slick, then he wormed his way down til he was close up to Newt’s entrance. Newt obligingly spread his legs, and as an afterthought grabbed the pillow next to his head and shoved it under his hips to gain some leverage.

He moaned in anticipation as he felt one finger begin to circle his ring of muscle, the last obstacle to a blissful experience. He was very pleased with himself for expressing so much; he often had a hard time accepting his own pleasure in the company of another enough to vocalise it, but whether thanks to his drinks earlier or the fact that Percy was so different, he was actually enjoying telling his story.

He cried out when that exploratory finger slid inside, and moved about in slow circles, another finger hinting at the entrance, and he forced himself to keep breathing, to relax as well as he could. When the second finger joined the first like an explorer on a vulgar spelunking expedition, he bit down on his bottom lip, then all of a sudden his cock was enveloped in a slick mouth, being sucked in in one smooth motion, and his whole body throbbed with want.

“Percy,” he managed to gasp, fingers digging desperately into his own thighs. He conveyed hope and need with that one word, and soon he was groaning as a third finger introduced itself, and he was being stretched and pulled apart simultaneously. His eyes were closed tight, bursts of colour flaring across his eyelids, overcome with the sting and the fabulous thrills running from his cock through the rest of his body. He felt oddly hollow when all three fingers slipped out, but soon there was something heavier, thicker, sitting poised to push through.

“Newt.” He tore open his eyes at his name, and looked wildly to Percy, and urged him onward with his gaze. Then he was gasping and moaning and grunting as Percy pushed forward at a measured pace, hands holding Newt’s hips, both of them shuddering at the sensation. Newt felt when Percy was fully in, and a hand was rubbing on his tense stomach.

“All right?” Percy bit out, staring down at Newt as though he were utterly fascinating.

“Oh god, yes,” Newt gasped. “Please, Percy.” Percy groaned as he shifted his hips, and began a slow rhythm, and Newt stiffened when his hard cock slid over his prostate, bumping over and against it as Percy moved and angled his hips to get that particular upthrust. He caressed Newt’s tense abdomen.

“Relax,” he whispered, and slowed his pace til Newt wasn’t as taut as piano wire. He drug his fingers through the sweat that glistened on Newt’s chest and stomach, and gradually worked up the pace, until they moved against each other like a well oiled machine, one that admittedly breathed heavily and squished in places.

Physically Newt knew where he was, but if he were questioned on much more he would be drawing a blank. He was filled with burning waves of pleasure, the only sounds in the room those of vigorous coitus, skin on skin, groans and gasps, half formed oaths stuttering out with the force of steady thrusts. They used each other to climb the rungs to bliss, and Newt was soon crying out, letting his head fall back on the pillow as Percy’s fingers ran over his stomach and tightened, slipping on slick skin, and Newt was dimly aware of Percy’s cock flexing inside of him, both of them caught up in the rush of orgasm.

 Percy withdrew slowly, both of them wincing at their shared sensitivity, and he slipped off the soiled condom and dropped it into the recycle bin nearby. Newt huffed in amusement as Percy laid himself next to Newt. “I don’t think that’s something that can be used again.”

“Hmm?” Percy asked, absentmindedly running his hand over Newt’s chest.

Newt arched his back, and tugged the pillow out from under himself. He dropped it on Percy’s face. “This one can be yours,” he grinned. He flopped about until he was comfortable on his side and facing Percy as he emerged from under the pillow. He yawned hugely, and choked on it when Percy poked his stomach in revenge for the pillow.

Newt huffed and rolled over, struggling to pull the blanket out from under himself so he could be comfortable under it. He sighed as he stretched, truly enjoying the bed and the company when he felt the bed shift and suddenly he was alone in it. He sat up and watched Percy cross the room and gather his clothes from where they had been spread willy-nilly across the floor.

“Do you not like to sleep in the nude?” he asked, amused. “Here I thought you _liked_ how I looked.”

Percy stilled, and turned to the bed. “I was going to go.”

“Oh,” Newt said, and was surprised by how his heart plummeted. He’d known it was nothing more than a quick fling, a one night stand as it were, and it wasn’t his first, but—“I was thinking you would stay the night.” Their sex session must have burned off all the liquor in his system, because his voice came out hesitant, uncertain.

Percy considered him from the doorway. “I have a…schedule,” he said, looking anywhere but Newt. He fidgeted with the pants in his hands and abruptly stepped into them as Newt watched him.

It was odd, Newt thought, that Percy suddenly seemed to have lost the assured, confident air he had been presenting since he pulled up a stool at the bar. But he didn’t want to push it, and seem like a starry eyed virgin who thought sex meant love. He knew what this had meant: nothing more than deriving sexual pleasure from someone who sought the same from him. Even so, he had been looking forward to sleeping next to someone. It wasn’t something he had often, and certainly not with someone like Percy, and in a setting like this nonetheless. Newt wanted it all to be different from what he had had before. That was what his whole spontaneous time away had been for, after all.

Percy steadfastly avoided his gaze as Newt got out of bed and walked over to him. He put his arms on Percy’s shoulders, and told him, “I would like very much for you to stay,” and he left it at that. He smiled at Percy when he finally looked at him, seeming deep in thought. He nodded slowly, and followed Newt back over to the bed, one hand holding up the waistband of his pants.

“Are you hungry?” Newt asked brightly, hoping to put Percy at ease. “Nora told me about some place called Fatty’s. Apparently the pizza is to die for. Oh,” he paused, embarrassed. “You live around here? Or no? Because if so then you should be the one educating me.”

Percy shook his head. “No, I’m just passing through. Who’s Nora?”

“The woman who runs the shop three doors down,” Newt explained. He went to his bag. He dug out a folded t-shirt, and turned back to Percy. “I thought you might like a shirt for under your jacket.” At Percy’s questioning look, he added, “if we’re going to go pick up pizza?”

“Ah,” Percy said, looking awkward. “The thing is, I don’t have much on me. In terms of money. As in, none at all. My wallet was stolen.”

“Stolen? You were mugged? Did you go to the police?” Newt suddenly was all too aware of his continued nakedness, and he grabbed a pair of boxers from his bag and pulled them on. Percy shook his head.

“It’s, well, complicated,” he admitted. “It was a…family member. We don’t have the best dynamic.” He waved a vague hand at his pants. “I had to leave in a hurry, didn’t have the chance to get my own clothes.” He stood up, face twisting. “I’m sorry, Newt, I’d feel too much like I was taking advantage of you.”

“But you bought me drinks!” Newt blurted suddenly. “You paid, in the bar.”

Percy shrugged. “It was my last cash.”

“Well you shouldn’t have wasted it on _me_ ,” Newt pointed out. Now he felt guilty. Percy fixed him with a look.

“I don’t consider any part of this evening a waste.”

Newt blushed, wishing he had his liquid courage from earlier. He didn’t want to be too much like himself around Percy, sure he would find him very wishy washy and dull. “Well, that’s, I mean, such as it is,” he trailed off. Percy was watching him with a fond smirk. “Listen, at least let me buy you dinner. Pizza from Fatty’s. Then at least when you head out in the morning you’ll have had one easy night before going on your quest for revenge.”

“Quest for revenge?” Percy repeated, seeming amused. Newt shrugged.

“You seem like a very intent man, Percy. Someone who would go to great lengths to right a wrong,” Newt explained. “Maybe ‘quest for revenge’ is a tad overdramatic.”

“it’s a little unnerving how well you seem to know me,” Percy murmured. His head was cocked to the side, thumb brushing his lip absently while he gazed at Newt. After a moment he shook himself from his reverie, and ran a hand through his hair with a grimace. “I would like to shower, though. Why don’t you call for delivery so we don’t need to leave?”

Newt grinned at him. “Why don’t I call and then join you in the shower?”

Percy’s eyes narrowed, and he crossed to Newt, reaching out and dipping his hand into the front of his boxers, making Newt gasp at the languid stroke. “Why don’t you do that,” Percy all but growled into his ear. He withdrew his hand and left Newt to swoon, sitting heavily on the edge of the chair his bag was on. The bathroom door clicked shut, and soon the shower was running.

Newt dug into the outer pocket of his bag, searching for the menu from Fatty’s that Nora had given him. His heart beat an excited tattoo and he hummed to himself as he scanned the menu. He absentmindedly turned the television on as he walked past it to sit on the edge of the bed, closer to the lamp on the nightstand. He was only dimly aware of a laugh track bursting forth as he considered the pizza options. He hadn’t asked Percy his preference so he would stick to the basics. He pulled the phone on the night table closer and had just dialled when a robotic voice emanated from the television.

“ _This is an updated public safety announcement for the residents of Potash, Clark County, Cotton Ridge, and surrounding areas. Escaped convict Percival Graves is believed to be on the move between these communities. Graves is a Caucasian male, six feet three inches, weighing 190 pounds, with shaggy black hair, brown eyes, and a facial scar on his top lip. Graves disappeared after his prison transport vehicle crashed en route from the Kennedy courthouse to State Prison this morning at 11:30a.m.  Graves was last seen in the long haul parking lot of the Potash Trucker’s Union, wearing a long sleeved white shirt and pants, at 12:07p.m. All citizens are asked to call 9-1-1 if they see anything suspicious. Do not approach or attempt to apprehend Graves. Graves is considered armed and dangerous. Thank you.”_

There was a voice buzzing in the distance, somewhere near Newt’s hip, that was soon replaced with a patterned beeping. Newt’s gaze remained fixed on the television screen, glued to the red border surrounding a mugshot of a very familiar face.

Percy’s dark eyes stared out at him, set in a face of stone, flickering on the overbright screen. His hair was shaggy, unkempt, nothing like the neat coif Newt had been running his hands through not that long ago.

He felt…empty. And hot. And as though he had just bailed out of a plane stuck in a tailspin, gut roiling and breath catching in his chest. Abruptly the image faded from the screen, and the sitcom that had been interrupted was continuing on like it hadn’t stopped.

A sound to his left had Newt spinning to see Percy standing outside of the washroom, a large towel knotted at his waist, his hair hanging damp around his eyes, unreadable expression on his face. For a long moment they stared at each other, and Newt’s heart was at once too slow and too fast, stuttering in him like it didn’t know what to do. He was hyper aware of the phone in his sweaty grip, and after a split second of indecision threw himself into motion, disconnecting his dropped call and pounding furiously at the keypad.

He had scarcely hit the nine when he was being pulled back from the edge of the bed, strong arms wrapped around him and the phone and receiver clattering to the floor. He panicked against the iron grip and a large hand was pressed over his mouth before he could yell. He was wrestled to the mattress, arms twisted under him and Percy sitting on his hips, and he turned this way and that, trying in vain to shift Percy, to work his arms out from under him, to shake off the hand that was firmly over his mouth. He was terrified at how easily Percy held him under control, the power in his hands absent from their earlier interactions.

 “Newt, please, calm down,” Percy urged, speaking quickly, desperately. “I’m not going to hurt you, I don’t want to hold you down like this but I can’t let you let anyone know I’m here. Just calm down, please?”

Newt was breathing heavily through the warm hand on his mouth. He glared up at Percy, defiantly twisting his upper body as much as he could, ignoring the painful pull on his shoulders when he shifted his pinned arms.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” Percy repeated, trying to sound calm, reassuring. Newt rolled his eyes. “I would like to let you go, I can explain everything. I wasn’t convicted for murder, I know that’s probably a small comfort,” Newt snorted, “but if you promise me you won’t yell for anyone, I’ll let you up.”

Newt narrowed his eyes at Percy, anger and fear warring with each other, his aching arms begging with him to agree for their own sake. Thinking quickly, he knew Percy could have hurt him earlier if he had wanted to, and he seemed unhappy at having to restrain Newt so roughly, and he was only in a towel and as such the odds of him hiding a weapon about his person were very low indeed, so, hoping against hope, Newt slowly nodded.

Relief flooded Percy’s eyes, and he nodded back. “Okay, good. I’m going to let you up. Just, please, don’t try to get to the phone or run, or I’ll have to stop you, and you know I’m more than capable of that.” He sounded almost apologetic. Newt jerked his head in affirmation, and took a deep breath when Percy withdrew his hand, slowly, watching Newt carefully. He shifted off of Newt, sliding to the side of the bed where the phone sat sprawled on the floor.

Newt tugged first one, then the other arm out from under himself, wincing at the protesting joints and muscles that twinged unpleasantly at him. He sat up and pulled himself to the top of the bed, the solid wood headboard cool against his bare skin. He couldn’t help his longing gaze to the door before turning his attention back to Percy who was intently focused on him. He clasped his shaking hands together, hugging his knees tight to his chest, and waited.

“I can explain everything,” Percy said again, one hand raised placatingly. “Or I can leave right now and you can pretend you never met me.”

Newt considered him, his earnest gaze, the genuine air he gave off, how desperate he seemed to tell Newt his story. Newt’s common sense shuffled off resolutely as he made up his mind.

“You have two minutes.”

**Author's Note:**

> Originally my goal was simply 'sexy stuff!' but halfway through a voice said 'haha sure but what about--' and I thought why not. I can very easily leave this as it is, but I can also add a second part but it really depends on if there would actually be any interest. i'm easy (that's why I'm pregnant!) so if you read this and thought 'cor blimey I would not be adverse to a thrilling conclusion that will make me laugh, cry, and generally leak from every orifice in a positive way', then let me know and I will add another part to this and contribute to your seepage. Wishing you a Rocko's modern life,  
> mozbee


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